


Epic opener.

by letosatie



Series: The glory of Origin. [1]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letosatie/pseuds/letosatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year Charles meets up with Erik to watch the State of Origin Rugby League matches, although Charles supports the Blues and Erik the Maroons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epic opener.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is because the commentators kept calling yesterday's match an epic opener. Yes, I did just cherik my life again. Don't judge me. Life gives me way too much to work with.
> 
> Series title from deathgod777's comment.
> 
> Also, GO NEW SOUTH WALES.

Charles was standing on his chair yelling, “Go you good thing, go you good thing, take that you maroon wearing blighters!” as Josh Morris passed neatly to his twin brother, Brett, who dived safely over the try line, equalizing for New South Wales.

Erik, currently clad in a maroon hoodie and face paint, glared at him.

“This year Erik,” Charles threatened, pointing and finally sitting back down.

“Get your finger out of my face, you blue moron,” Erik returned grimly.

Every year the Outback, an Australian owned and themed bar, screened the State of Origin matches. Every year, by tradition or habit or seriously questionable intentions, Charles ditched work and rode the subway to the Outback, dressed in his best light blue. He would hold his breath, guts churning, wondering if this was the year Erik didn’t turn up, having forgotten or just having more important things to do, more significant people to spend time with. So far, eight years running, Charles would spy the tall man waving at him over the crowd, pints already oozing condensation onto the table. Charles would slap him on the back and establish the terms of their bet and settle in for the game.

Queensland had opened the scoring, Charles swearing good naturedly and making his way to the bar. If Queensland was leading Charles was obligated to buy, vice versa if New South Wales was leading. After Hodkinson made a penalty, Charles downed his Coopers and handed his empty glass to Erik without a word. Charles had had an expensive previous eight years, with the Maroons’ dominating streak and Erik’s bottomless thirst for beer, so he intended to make the most of this two point lead.

“You look ridiculous,” Erik told Charles, who did a delighted strut, resplendent in a baby blue vintage 70’s tux, complete with cummerbund and ruffled shirt. 

“I raided Dad’s wardrobe,” Charles said proudly, “I knew it would piss you off the most.”

“Oh well, I’m glad you think of me when you dress,” said Erik, eyes scanning the very tight fit of the flared trousers. “Do you think about me when you undress too?”

Charles flushed a little, and Erik smirked into his glass.

New South Wales took their attention back by scoring another try. Charles sculled and shook his glass in Erik’s face. Erik obediently went to the bar, coming back with pints and a table number. “I ordered a breakfast platter,” he explained, “I haven’t eaten.”

“Good idea, me neither,” said Charles, swaying right into Erik’s arm.

“No kidding,” commented Erik, and wormed his arm around Charles’ waist.

The food arrived during half time, so they ate and talked.

“Tell me about your year,” Erik wanted to know. “How is your sister?”

“She is fierce. Keeps asking my opinion and then doing the complete opposite. What about your folks? How are they?”

“We lost my father this year. It was soon after I last saw you, actually.”

“Oh Erik, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay.”

Charles, unexpectedly, felt guilty. “I feel as if I should have been there,” he remarks, shaking his head.

“That’s crazy Charles. I don’t even live here anymore.”

“You don’t?” Charles queried, puzzled. “Why do you come to the Outback for the game then? Surely, somebody else must play it.”

“Hmmm, but here I have you to buy my drinks. And I get to watch you suffer defeat year after year.”

“Not this year. We’re leading ten to four,” Charles reminded him. “Ten to four! Your Maroons are buffoons.”

“Did you just rhyme an insult?”

“Absolutely, haven’t you heard of battle rap?”

Erik bent over laughing at the dissonance of Charles in his kitsch tux speaking of battle rap. He was wheezing with the effort of trying to suck in oxygen in between painful laughter. “Oh shit, Charles,” he panted. “I love you.”

“What?” Charles eyes were piercingly blue and Erik was struggling for breath again.

“Ouuh, that didn’t come out right. I mean I love watching State of Origin with you.”

Erik was saved by the bell, the second half starting horn. Two minutes in and Queensland were offside, giving the Blues a chance for a penalty, which Hodkinson kicked successfully. Charles was so ecstatic, he leapt on to Erik’s back for a piggy back.

With each additional beer Erik placed in front of Charles, the brief touches Charles laid on Erik became a degree less casual, a measure more sensual. Erik felt the blatant favouritism being displayed by the referee towards Charles’ team was slightly negated by the warm palm of their supporter on his neck, or the surprisingly wide span of his hand circling Erik’s thigh sending sparks of sex straight to the groin, or strong fingers swiping his buttocks in a cheeky pinch.

Queensland scored a try. Erik and Charles were shouting, and Charles was gripping the sleeve of Erik’s hoodie. There was a possible penalty for Queensland, but the clock ran out and the buzzer called the end of the match with the scoreboard reading 12-8 for Charles’ team.

“Yes!” screamed Charles, dancing victoriously on the table. 

All Erik could see was a waggling tux-encased arse. He groaned. He would really like to plow into that arse but, under the terms of Charles and Erik’s long standing bet, because Queensland lost it was Erik’s arse up on offer for Charles this afternoon.

Charles slid off the table and into Erik’s waiting arms. “Let’s go darling,” he said, “I have plans for you.”

Erik shivered. He loved State of Origin.


End file.
